Lies
by JinxedJaguar
Summary: My friends know me better than I do, but is everything I thought I was a lie? Do my friends actually like me? Is all I'll ever know going to be a lie? [CraftBattleDuty, TBNRfrags, BajanCanadian, Woofless, Vikkstar123]
1. Chapter 1

"Thank you guys for watching and see ya later doods," Mitch said, finishing off the recording. I clicked the recording hot key and stopped filming.

"So, you guys can all make it to Canada tomorrow?" Rob asked me, Preston, and Vikk.

"Yeah," we all said at once.

"Great! I finally get to see my foreign friends IRL again!" Mitch almost yelled.

We just finished recording a mini-map and we stayed in the Skype call to talk about what we'd do when we were there. Well, more like _they_ talked. I stayed to listen, but I hadn't said anything since the recording ended. My mic was acting up anyway.

"Hey, Lachlan? You still there? You haven't said anything in a while," Vikk said. I was surprised a little that they noticed I was still there.

"What? Yeah, I'm here," I answered.

"Dood, your mic is all weird. It sounds like you're underwater," Preston said.

"You are pointless to the call! Bye!" Mitch joked, but then kicked me from the call.

I sighed and stared at the group chat. '**Mitch removed Lachlan from this group.**' _Seriously_, I thought. They always picked on me and pushed me around. I never really minded, they were my best friends after all, but it got annoying after a while. The constant mocks of my accent, the constant reminder that I'm not as good at PVP; all of it was slowly making me think that there's something that people don't like about me.

'**Mitch added Lachlan to this group**' popped up in the chat. I silently joined the call.

"Seriously, though. What is his problem? He just does the dumbest things hoping that someone will pay attention to him," Rob said.

"Yeah, he expects us to take pity on him, when he won't get it because begging for it isn't the answer," Vikk added.

Who were they talking about? And why were they talking about this guy like this behind his back? They aren't _those guys_ who trash talked others.

"Hey, we shouldn't be talking about Lachlan like this," Preston nervously tried to cut in.

"Yeah, um, he-" Mitch started.

"No, hear me out. He can be great sometimes, but do we really know if that's an act or not?" Rob interrupted.

Oh. They were talking about me. Of course. I've never been told what my friends truly thought of me. From how they acted sometimes, I could tell that they thought I was usually annoying. I just never thought they saw me as annoying because they thought I was an emo.

"I mean, he could just be lying to us because he doesn't want us to know how he really is," Rob continued.

"Guys, you should stop," Preston tried again.

"Just listen to me and Preston! Lachlan-" Mitch started.

"Can you listen to us first?" Vikk asked.

"Sure, I'd like to hear more about this 'Lachlan' asshole," I sarcastically cut in.

"This is what I was trying to tell you guys…" Mitch sighed.

"W-what? Lachlan?" Rob asked.

"How much did you hear?" Vikk said.

Guilt was oozing through their voices. I couldn't tell if it was because they said things they didn't mean, or because they just admitted all of that in front of me.

"I heard starting at, 'Seriously, what's his problem.' Why? Was it worse before that?" I snapped.

"No!" Vikk said.

"So then I heard it all?" I asked.

"Well, no, but you heard most of it…" Rob answered.

"Look, we didn't mean any of that-" Vikk started.

"Really? I'm with Lachlan here, you guys sounded like you meant it," Preston interrupted.

"You aren't helping," Rob growled at Preston.

"Is that all you guys think of me as?" I asked, sort of changing the subject.

"Of course not!" Mitch answered.

His voice was higher than usual. He was either nervous or lying. Or both.

"Okay, then Mitch," I started. I heard a small sigh of relief, but then I continued, "But I've had enough of these… Lies. But, wait. According to you guys, I'm the one lying, so I don't have the right to say that. Bye. See ya in Canada."

I left the call and shut off my computer. I plopped into my bed and stared at the clock on my wall. It was noon here, but it was night for everyone else. Then I realized that the recording ended at 11 and I wasn't kicked from the call until 11:30. Were they trash talking me that whole time? Or did that subject not come up until later?

I couldn't believe how mean I was. Sure, I caught them complaining about me, but they were my friends. I couldn't lose the only people who have ever actually _wanted _to hang out with me. I also didn't understand why I still wanted to go to Canada, but I guess it's the same answer: they're my friends.

The thing that annoyed me most was how they described me. A guy seeking attention in the wrong ways. Did I really act like that? I didn't know. I knew for sure that I was lying about the true me though. I just don't want them to know that I can be very depressed. It's not bad to the point where I self-harm, but I get _so_ close. But besides that, was I lying to them about everything? Do they know nothing about me? I mean, there really isn't much about me after you know that I'm a happy-go-lucky YouTuber who records with his friends. But if I'm not happy, then does that make everything anyone knows about me a lie? Does that mean that they're right?


	2. Chapter 2

I woke up to my phone alarm going off. I should start getting ready to head out to the airport. Honestly, I probably wouldn't make it by "tomorrow" but that's only because of the length of the flight and then the 14 hour time change.

I got my suitcase which had 10% clothes, 90% recording/computer stuff. My carry on had some other stuff I would need (shampoo, deodorant, etc.). Then I had a personal bag (the one that I keep at my feet) that had books and anything that couldn't fit. Honestly, I didn't have much. It does sound like a lot, but I was staying in Canada for a month. So was everyone else. God, this trip would be awkward.

I was half an hour away from the airport, so I was left alone with my thoughts, probably the worst company anyone could ever have. Well, there was also the taxi driver, but it's not like he wanted to talk. Within that time, I realized what I was agreeing to. I was spending a month with people who might hate me. And the fact that I didn't know if they hated me or not made it worse.

"Hey, kid. We're at the airport," the driver said, pulling me from my trance.

"Oh, sorry," I apologized, paying him and getting out of the car.

Those 30 minutes were just bad thoughts, how was I going to spend the endless hours on the plane?

* * *

I sat near the entrance of the airport. I was finally in Canada. Yay, I guess. I texted Mitch saying that the plane landed and I was waiting for him. Twenty minutes passed and I didn't get a response. It said that he read the message, but he probably just forgot that I needed to be picked up. I've been in Canada once before, and it only took 5 minutes to get to the airport. Why was it always me who was forgotten?

As if fate heard me and thought, "Don't be so ungrateful you have these people," someone tapped my shoulder. I quickly wiped the depressed look from my face and turned around. I was expecting to see Mitch there, but instead stood Rob.

"Sorry dood, Mitch is in the middle of a recording and he couldn't pick you up," Rob said.

I pulled on a fake smile and said, "It's okay – better late than never, right?"

Once we got into the car, the air became tense. Neither of us really wanted to talk to the other. It was awkward and I was honestly scared at what the subject would come up as if either of us started talking.

"Look, Lachlan. I'm really sorry about what happened. Vikk and I didn't mean any of that and we want you to know that we'll take all the blame. Preston kept trying to get us to stop talking and so did Mitch, but Mitch also knew that you joined the call. I'm so sorry," Rob said, breaking the silence.

I thought for a moment before answering, "I forgive you."

Rob looked slightly taken aback. "What? That easily? I'm not saying that I'm not glad you forgave us, but we did say a lot of crap about you," he said.

"Yeah, I guess. I…" I hesitated before continuing, "It's all true. You guys had every right to say that and I know that you guys meant it. I know that you both lied about not meaning it, but I don't mind. You just don't want to hurt my feelings."

I saw a small flash of annoyance on Rob's face, but it was soon replaced with his normal happy expression. I didn't understand why he looked so mad, but then I realized my mistake. I just made myself sound even more self-pitying than I usually do. _Great job, Lachlan. Just what you needed to help your case_, I thought to myself.

Luckily, we arrived at his, Mat, and Mitch's house soon after the short conversation. I knew that Vikk and Preston were already there and Mat was probably out (because Mat's really the only one who kinda had a life).

Rob and I got out of his car and he silently unlocked the door to the house. It was just as messy as it was when I was there the first time. I could see the living room from the front door and everyone was sitting in or around the couch. Even Mat.

When they heard the door open, all their heads turned towards me. Yup. Super awkward. "Um… Hi guys," I said.

"Hey, Lachlan," Mat answered. He was the only one who wasn't in the call, so he most likely didn't understand why everything was so tense.

"Hi," Vikk nearly whispered, looking away.

"Um… Why don't I show you to your room?" Mitch cut in. He stood up, picked up my carry on, and dragged me upstairs.

"Do you believe them? Do you think they're right – that everything you know about me is a lie?" I asked once we were in what was technically my room.

The same guilty face that Rob and Vikk had was on Mitch's face. "Um… I don't know… They know you a lot better than I do… I don't really have a right to have a say in what personality traits you do and do not have," Mitch answered.

"Oh. Okay, then," I said.

With that, he walked out of the room. I just dumped all my bags into a corner and sat on my bed.

So it wasn't just Vikk and Rob. Mitch was obviously lying; he had his mind made about what he thought about me. Preston was too nice to say anything and Mat had no clue. Or Mat just silently thought it to himself.

But how can they know more about me than I know about myself? The person who's supposed to know you best is yourself, so why don't I know myself at all? I honestly can't even tell the majority of personality – I really only know what my therapist has told me.

And that's another thing. I know that I've said this before, but I feel like I haven't told my only friends anything. They don't know I'm depressed, never mind that I had to see a therapist because of it. The only traits that I could pull from myself were untrustworthy and self-pitying.

"Hey, Lachlan?" someone asked as they knocked on the bedroom door.

"Yeah?" I answered.

"Can I come in?" the same voice said. I could tell that it was Preston, the guy who said I was his Australian other half. Maybe we'll find out what he truly thinks about me on this trip. Fun.

"Sure," I said.

Preston slowly opened the door and walked in. "Are you okay?" he cautiously asked.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" I lied.

"Come on, Lachlan. Don't lie to me. You are literally oozing out depression. Tell me what's wrong?" he said.

"I don't really want to…" I said, trying to avoid it.

"Please, Little Lachy? Talking through it is the best way," Preston continued.

I took a deep breath and said, "Fine." Preston sat down next to me and waited for me to start talking. "Well, I always catch myself thinking about what Rob and Vikk said. I can't tell if they're right or not. I don't know myself well enough, and it seems like everyone agrees with them. I just don't know," I confessed.

"That's not true! Not everyone thinks that! I'm sure your fans disagree!" Preston said.

"What about you, though? What do you think of me?" I asked.

"Um… Well… I- Uh- I don't know…" Preston lied. I sighed and looked down.

"Can you at least tell the truth?" I said in an almost annoyed voice.

"I don't really want to…" Preston said.

At that point I didn't really need him to answer. The fact that he didn't want to tell this stuff straight to my face proved that he agreed with everyone else. Out of everyone, I expected Preston to be least judgmental, but he's just like everyone else. Or I'm just that horrible.

"Whatever… I think I just need some alone time," I said.

"You sure? You live alone and you spent a long time alone on the plane," Preston asked.

"Yeah. I think I just need to think some things through," I answered. To be honest, being alone was probably the worst way to think through my problems though.

"Okay then…" Preston left, closing the door behind him.

I have to record with these guys while I'm here too. Man, this trip would be rough.


	3. Chapter 3

I was in a recording with Rob and Preston. I swear it couldn't be any more awkward. I didn't want to say anything because I was scared I would say something wrong. But of course, we were playing a Lucky Block mini-game (Battle Arena) so I was yelling about all the traps I kept on getting. Not to mention keep inventory was off and we weren't allowed to turn it on. I didn't understand why we still kept the 3 lives rule. At least once PVP started it still didn't count as a death if you died to anything un-PVP related.

"Time's up! We can now PVP!" Preston announced.

I didn't have anything good. Does half a set of leather, a fishing pole, and a ton of useless redstone count as good? Oh look, there's Rob coming towards me.

"Please, Rob! Please no! I don't have anything! Spare me! Don't be that guy who picks on the defenseless" I yelled in a joking tone.

"Geez, just stop trying to make us feel bad for you and suck it up," Rob snapped.

I was taken aback. That was the first time he said anything like that to my face intentionally. Not to mention that it was during a recording. He could say anything to me in real life, but he there are some unspoken rules about what is said and done during recordings. One of them was that we can't bring in personal things unknown to the fans. Inside jokes count as personal things, but what I mean is more of the serious problems. To everyone's but our knowledge, there never has been any bumps in any friendships. No one said anything about the Skype call to the fans.

I stayed silent as I tried to run away from Rob, but he killed me with an enchanted diamond sword.

"Two lives Lachy," Preston joke-taunted.

I sighed and started breaking Lucky blocks. I was listening to what Rob and Preston were saying as I broke the blocks. From what I could understand, Preston was chasing down Rob and Preston was pretty stacked.

I hadn't gotten any death traps or anything, but I still hadn't gotten anything good. Then the next block I broke gave me a Lucky sword. My eyes widened and I made my character have a spaz attack.

"Hey guys," I said in a sing-song voice.

"No, no, no, no! Leave me alone Preston! I just want to roam in the wild and eat cookies!" Rob yelled.

"Haha never!" Preston yelled back.

"Guys you should be worried-" I started.

"Why are you such a cactus?! Take this!" Rob interrupted.

"What?! You have a Lucky Bow?!" Preston screamed.

"Guys-" I tried.

Preston cut me off by screaming at the top of his lungs.

"And no one cares…" I muttered.

I continued breaking blocks and I ended up with half diamond and half iron armor. But of course, I lost the game overall. I didn't really care – I mean, I lose everything and it's hilarious to see how I lost. My last life was lost to fall damage. I'm just not meant for parkour. Especially when I'm being chased down and under pressure. Or PVP, but that doesn't mean it's not fun.

* * *

The whole recording session lasted about an hour and a half. For the most part, it was just like any other recording session but every once in a while I would get something similar to what Rob said in the first video snapped at me.

It hurt to hear him say that, but it hurt even more to not hear Preston say anything about it. They were my best friends and I shouldn't be letting them push me around like that. But I just couldn't. Speaking up isn't my thing. One of them might get even more at me. Or I could just come off as hot-tempered or something.

Besides, it didn't even bother me. Sure, I was super frustrated on finding out whether they were right or not, but it's not like I'm mentally screaming for them to stop. I'm not annoyed by them actually saying it; I'm annoyed by myself for thinking that it's true.

Since I finished recording for a while, I wanted to watch through some older videos. I wanted to try to analyze my personality and have proof to support the traits I came up with. Yeah, yeah, I'm such a nerd. In school I was one of the smartest in the grade but no one believed it. They knew I was smart, they just thought that there were just a lot of other people a lot smarter than me. So I was always discredited for my work, but I knew that the only reason they did that was because I was blonde. Stereotypes always bring so much trouble.

If you're blonde it doesn't automatically make you stupid, if you're Asian it doesn't automatically make you smart or a horrible driver, if you're emo it doesn't automatically make you attention-seeking.

Then I realized what I just thought to myself. I might be emo, but that doesn't mean that I want everyone to feel bad for me. I have a reason that I'm depressed. I've never self-harmed either. I never had a legitimate reason to. The only times I ever talk about how I feel are when I'm with a therapist or when I'm just about forced to.

But then I thought about why I was depressed to start with. Attention. My little brother was born when I was 5, and when my mom was pregnant with him I knew that I wouldn't get paid attention to as much. I knew that another kid around would mean I would be given knew responsibilities and more time would have to be given to the baby. Then when I was older – closer to middle school – no one was able to help me with homework or just flat out talk to me because my parents were always busy with work and my siblings. Growing up just felt like I was a ghost amongst everyone. Deep down I wanted to do something horrible to get attention, but I didn't. I never did.

And now, I'm depressed because of friends. Even before the whole Skype thing, I felt like none of my friends cared about me. I thought that they would've figured out I was depressed sooner than this. I thought they would've found out in a different way.

I shut off my computer and sat on my bed. I didn't have to watch my videos and analyze myself to figure out my personality. I just did right there. All of those thoughts were just me thinking about myself. All I ever do is think about myself. All I ever want is people to notice me. All I am is a stereotypical emo.

* * *

Everyone was asleep but me. I shut myself in the bathroom and tried to think things through again. I didn't quite understand what there was to think through though. All my friends know that I'm a self-conceited emo and don't necessarily like it. That's all there was to it. All I didn't know was what to do. If they treat me like I'm not their friend I shouldn't hang out with them. But then I don't understand why I can't make myself leave them. My mind was set onto two opposites.

Not only were those thoughts running through my mind, but so were some very depressed ones. None of the people I care about care about me, so what would make the difference when I'm gone? If something is up would they notice on time?

As if my body was doing something on its own, I went to my room to get a hand mirror I brought. When I was back in the bathroom I dropped it on the tile. The mirror shattered into hundreds of pieces and I realized the mess I made. I just cleaned up the dust and threw out some of the pieces. I kept the 5 sharpest ones. Half-aware of what I was doing, I dragged the mirror on my left wrist, creating a white scratch. You could see that there were very tiny droplets of blood, but that wasn't enough. I traced over the one cut over and over and over again. It didn't even hurt that much.

I just looked at the cut I made. The cut had to be a few millimeters deep at least and it was probably just as wide. There wasn't blood oozing out or anything, but it was definitely bleeding. It wasn't the standard cut, but I was satisfied for the night.

I took the mirror shards and hid them in my suitcase. There was no other evidence of what happened in the bathroom, so I left everything else as it was. The cut stung and it looked a bit swollen or something, but I just slid into bed.

How was I going to keep people from seeing it? Or did I want to see if anybody would care to notice? And why did I do it? To help myself or to make people realize what the real me was like? How long will this go on for? Is this a one-time thing? I didn't know. I didn't know anything.


	4. Chapter 4

I woke up and the cut wasn't swollen anymore. It didn't sting either. It only hurt if you actually touched around it. I ran my thumb over it a few times just to see how it felt. I didn't understand why I did it though. I kind of liked the pain of it.

Seeing as I quickly choose I didn't want anyone to see it, I looked for a long-sleeved t-shirt. It was summer here, though, so I didn't have one. Fortunately, I brought a sweatshirt in case. I sighed in relief and choose the rest of my clothes. From what it sounded like, no one was awake, so I went to the bathroom and took a quick shower (with the soaps that I brought).

After getting dressed and everything, I went down stairs. It was going to be difficult for me to not act weird or depressed. I'm not too much of an actor. I know it sounds weird, but it's so much easier to fake it when the thought of pleasing my fans was in the back of my mind. When it came to keeping a small secret from my friends, I didn't care as much about doing a good job.

By time I got to the door way I heard that everyone was now awake. I must've spent hours contemplating whether to come down or not. The moment I walked into the kitchen/dining room everyone went quiet. That was the second time that happened so far. And it made me feel really uncomfortable. Ironically, I hated being the center of attention. It was just too confusing trying to understand myself.

"So… Good morning," I said. My strange sleeping schedule translated pretty well to the time zone here. It wasn't perfect, but I managed to fall asleep last night and that was good enough.

"Morning," Mat said. Yup, he's still as clueless as ever. I didn't quite know his thoughts on me though.

"Morning," Preston quietly answered.

I grabbed a bowl and grabbed a box of cereal that was sitting on the counter. I made a bowl of cereal and milk and sat at the end of the table, where no one was sitting. _Yup, not suspicious at all_, I sarcastically thought to myself.

"Um, Lachlan? You didn't come down for dinner last night," Mitch hesitantly spoke up.

"Oh, I forgot. I wasn't hungry at that time anyway," I answered truthfully. _But I am starving now. Mistakes were made._

"So, what's everyone's recording schedules for today?" Vikk said, changing the subject.

And we continued talking with me occasionally speaking. I was just as silent as I was in the Skype call. I realized that it wasn't hard acting happy as long as all saddening topics were strayed away from. But while I was eating there was one second where my sleeve rolled down just enough to see the cut and I swear I saw Preston glance at my wrist. I was pretty sure I was just being paranoid.

But then when I was walking into my room, Preston slid into the room as well.

"Lachlan? Can I talk to you for a second?" Preston asked, closing the door behind him.

"Uh, sure," I answered,

"Well, I'm not sure if I was just my eyes were mixing up your hand and your sweatshirt but I swear I saw something red on your wrist," Preston mumbled.

"You saw something on my wrist?" I said innocently.

God, I was screwed. I'm so pathetic. I actually thought I could at least pull of a day without anyone seeing a small cut. Okay, it wasn't that small, but still. I had a sweatshirt on.

"Yeah. I dunno why I'm being so worried, though… Just, can I see your wrist?" he said.

With a moment's hesitation I stuck out my wrist. But my right wrist. The one that he didn't see under the sleeve. He pulled up my sleeve and looked at my wrist. There was nothing to see on the pale skin of my write arm.

"Oh. Sorry for bothering you," Preston apologized. I could hear in his voice that he didn't quite believe himself. He was sure that there was something, he just didn't realize he was looking in the wrong spot.

Preston left and I sat down at the desk. My heart was racing. There was a high chance that he would ask to see my other arm, but luckily he didn't. It's been less than a day since I actually made the darn thing, so hopefully I can keep going around without anyone noticing.

Then I realized that my keyboard would hit my wrist in the position that I play MC. With the amount of time I record in one day, it would hurt a lot. I couldn't fail my fans though. But what if they somehow find out about it? Like I accidentally imply it or something. That would be bad. Especially for the younger viewers. I'm mentally crossing my fingers.

* * *

I was recording an X-Run video with Bodil and Mat. It was literally the most frustrating game ever created. And that's saying a lot because I don't get frustrated as fast as the other guys. I'm not saying I don't get frustrated, but seriously? You can steal a fry from one of them and they will go ape shit. I mean crap. Wait, why do I care? These are my thoughts.

"GODDAMN IT!" Bodil screamed. Mat laughed at Bodil's rage. His laugh was so weird.

"Geez, you're turning into Simon! All you need to do now is break your keyboard," Mat said.

"What, like how you broke your headset?" Bodil retorted, referencing Mat's scare troll video.

"Wait, I'm doing it! I can see the second to last checkpoint!" I yelled. Then I fell on the jump right before the checkpoint.

"I can see you! Oh, wait. Guess not," Bodil said, laughing.

I went silent for a second. Then I screamed and started smashing the desk. Suddenly my wrist hurt a lot. And I mean _a lot_. I slightly pulled down my sleeve and saw that the cut reopened. It was bleeding again.

"Uh, you okay Lachlan?" Mat asked, getting really close to his mic.

"Um," I said, thinking about what was safe to say. "I'm bleeding… I kinda broke something," I answered truthfully. I broke my skin, technically. Both of them started laughing. "I'm gonna go to the bathroom for a sec…"

I ran to the bathroom and quickly searched around for a band-aid. Since it wasn't my house, I had no clue where to look. Eventually I found some bandages in the cabinet underneath the sink. Hopefully it would be enough for the cut. Who was I kidding, the cut wasn't even that bad. It was bleeding quite a bit though, so I didn't want to cover my _very_ expensive keyboard in blood.

"I'm back!" I yelled into my mic.

"You're a bit late dood, the games over," Mat said.

"What?! I took that long? The recording's over?" I asked.

"You're not that late. We still have one more game to record," Bodil answered. I sighed in relief.

* * *

Everyone was asleep again and I was sitting in the bathroom. I avoided everyone as much as I could, even though that defeated the purpose of flying out to another country on the opposite side of the equator. But I didn't have the money to buy a new plane ticket and something deep down made me feel like I could actually repair my friendships.

I had a mirror shard clutched tightly in my hand. I was going to add one more cut. I started scratching the mirror right under the first cut. It got about a quarter as deep as the first one when I started looking for something just a bit sharper. I didn't want a full knife or anything, but the mirror was pretty blunt.

I found a small pair of scissors in a dusty area, so I figured that no one would notice it being gone. The scissors looked like they were made to cut your fingernails, but they were blunt too. They were still sharper than the mirror.

I started scratching at my wrist again. It didn't even feel like there was pain. There was something telling me that I should find something even sharper so I could cut deep enough to end it all. And I wanted to do that, but I couldn't. There were around 400 thousand people that wouldn't have an explanation about my disappearance.

It was kind of confusing as to why I was cutting but I was worried about people caring. It's simple at the same time, though. Fans are different from friends and family in all honesty. The fans don't know me well enough in real life to actually care about it. Sure they'll be sad if I'm dead, but all I ever am to any of them is someone who provides entertainment on the internet. I was never a best friend, boyfriend, or brother to any of them. Like I'd ever end up with a girlfriend though. Or a boyfriend for that matter. I didn't care though. Anyway, even if a fan truly does care, they can't do anything about it.

I looked at the cut and stopped. It was deeper than the first one. It was good, more than satisfactory. And although I didn't want to cut deep, I silently wished that I was brave enough to.


	5. Chapter 5

I woke up in the morning and it was exactly the same as the day before. This was supposed to be a vacation; I couldn't believe how dark it turned. I was supposed to be spending time with my friends, when really I'm all alone trapped in my thoughts.

I could already hear people downstairs, so I didn't waste as much time. I took a quick shower and I wore the same sweatshirt as I did yesterday. It probably was super weird to everyone else, but maybe they would just think that I wasn't used to the weather since I lived closer to the equator.

Like yesterday, it went silent when everyone saw me. I hated how uncomfortable it made me feel. I swear I saw Mitch slightly glare at me and Rob and Vikk were just looking down. Mitch definitely wasn't scared to show his feelings. Then there was Mat: confused.

"What's going on? This keeps happening. What did Lachlan do?" Mat whispered to Rob.

"I'll explain later," Rob whispered.

I gave a small sigh. I made a bowl of cereal and sat away from everyone else. Again. This day was going to be exactly the same as the day before, and I didn't care. It's just a day after all. I continued eating my breakfast as I listened to conversations I wasn't part of. It was incredibly boring. I finished my cereal in only a few minutes but I didn't feel like getting up.

I quickly zoned out thinking about my life again. I could hear everyone talking around me, but my brain wasn't processing any of it. I was staring at my empty bowl of cereal, as if I found milk very interesting. The thing that snapped me out of it was a wave of pain in my wrist. Preston was dragging me upstairs by the arm.

"Preston, what are you doing?" I hissed. I didn't want to make it seem like I was in more pain than I should be.

When he finally dragged me to his room, he started to talk. But not before he pulled up my left sleeve. "There was only one yesterday!" Preston shouted.

"W-what?" I asked. I tried to pull my arm out of his grip, but he was stronger than me.

"I know that you showed me the wrong arm yesterday, Lachlan. I just took that as a sign that you didn't want to talk about whatever happened! Now that I can actually clearly see it it's difficult not to be worried!" Preston answered.

"I… I… What do you think happened? How do you think I got these?" I said, stopping myself from stuttering and crying.

"You… Y-You did it. You c-cut," Preston whispered. It seemed like the fact that he didn't say it kept it from being true, but as he realized what he said tears started falling.

"I'm so s-sorry…" I stuttered, tears spilling from my own eyes.

Preston hugged me and I hugged back. We were both crying, trying to comfort each other.

Then I felt the most painful feeling ever. It wasn't anything physical. Preston just found out _how _depressed I was. The other guys just found out I had depression (since "emo" and self-pitying are clear implications of depressed), not its extent. But the feeling of someone you dearly care about so worried about you hurt. It's hard to describe the feeling, but I felt guilty, sad, relieved, terrified, and speechless all at once. Guilty because I caused all this; sad because I failed at keeping a secret no one was meant to know; relieved because I found out that someone actually was crying because they were worried about me; terrified because I didn't know what was going to happen next, if he would tell everyone or if he would just push me away and call me selfish; speechless because all these emotions were confusing.

"I-I'm s-so s-sorry," I repeated.

"I'm s-sorry t-too," Preston said.

I pulled away from him and just stared at him in confusion. "F-for what? Why a-are you s-sorry?" I asked.

"I-it's my f-fault! I sh-should've st-stopped you from h-hearing all of th-that!" Preston answered.

I started trying to even out my breathing but I didn't get too far. "I-it's better m-me kn-knowing, I g-guess. Y-you can't ch-change th-their minds, Preston," I assured him.

"I guess… B-but, the w-way they a-acted…" Preston tried to spit out.

We just stayed crying in that room for what seemed like forever. No one came in to ask about it, so it wasn't going to be a big deal the next day. We really had nothing to say that wasn't self-explanatory.

Once we both started breathing normally again, we started talking again.

"I should've told them that they were being insensitive or something. I could've forced them to stop before you joined the call again…" Preston said.

"I already said that it's fine, Preston," I repeated.

"Obviously it's not! This is really serious! These are deep cuts too. I shouldn't have been so hesitant when you asked about my opinion…" Preston almost shouted.

"I know, I'm really sorry… I just… I don't know…" I tried explaining myself.

"Can you at least answer me one thing?" he asked. I nodded. "Were you, uh, c-cutting for relief or because you want to… die?"

"I… Um… I don't know…" I muttered.

"Which one is the first one you think about?" Preston insisted.

"I don't know… Honestly, I think it's… Both…" I answered.

Preston held back tears and so did I. "I think we missed a whole hour's worth of recording… We better go to our computers…" Preston said. I nodded and left the room.

As I waited for my computer to boot up along with the other applications I use, I took in what just happened. Preston and I cried for an hour about me being suicidal. Preston found out about me being suicidal. Preston knew there was something up the whole time. Preston actually cared. So much just happened, it seemed impossible to process all of it.

Preston actually cared. Not all of my friends hated me. Maybe he didn't want to put more pressure on me by explaining anything. Maybe he didn't realize how much worse he unintentionally made it by not answering. Maybe I was just over thinking everything. Maybe I wasn't at all.

My computer was finally on and everything I needed was open. I quickly tweeted out that I might not have the usual amount of videos for today and that I would make up for it. I went into the Crazy Craft launcher and started recording another episode.

* * *

I couldn't do it. I couldn't. I couldn't stop myself from adding a third one. It just felt wrong to not. I didn't want to ever stop, whether or not anyone was there to stop me. They can't make me not depressed. They can't make me not want to be dead. The only thing stopping me is the guilt and fear.

I did it anyways. I used the small pair of scissors I found. The third cut was thinner than the other ones. It was just as deep, though. I had three red marks on my arm that might never fade away. And who was there to notice? Only me and Preston. We were the only ones who cared. He's the only person sympathetic enough to. Even I can't find it in my heart to feel bad for myself about being suicidal.


	6. Chapter 6

I woke up and my first thought was what to wear. Not because I cared about if I was handsome or whatever, but because I couldn't wear the same sweatshirt three days in a row. If any of us did everyone would immediately know something is weird. Strangely enough, if I had brought another one I wouldn't have this problem.

I really had no choice but to wear a short-sleeved t-shirt. At least I always wore a watch and a few rubber bracelets on my left arm. That wouldn't be weird to anyone since I always had them on. But since the watch wasn't wide enough to cover all three cuts, I still had to keep my forearm facing down whenever possible. I didn't know how much I should trust a few thin, rubber bracelets.

When I went downstairs, all dressed and showered, everyone was sitting in the living room with their shoes on. They didn't notice me at first, but sure enough they all turned to stare.

"Morning, Lachlan. We were going to eat out for breakfast, but we wanted to wait for you. We were going to wake you up if you didn't come down in the next 10 minutes," Preston said.

I nodded and put my shoes on. We all climbed into Mitch's van (that luckily had just enough seats). I sat in the back with Preston, Rob and Vikk were in front of us, and Mitch drove while Mat sat shotgun.

I couldn't help but play with my wrist. I was nervous. I didn't know if Preston told the guys or not. I was scared too. Wouldn't they hate me even more?

"Don't worry, I didn't tell anyone," Preston whispered so only I could hear.

I sighed in relief and gave Preston a small smile. "Thanks. I don't know if you realize how much it means to me," I said.

"Just a question, why aren't you wearing your sweatshirt? I figured that you wore your sweatshirt the past two days to hide… Um, you know… _Them_," Preston asked.

"I didn't want to wear the same sweatshirt three days… It's kind of hard to explain…" I answered.

"Nah, I got you dood," Preston said.

A few minutes later, we got to a restaurant. It wasn't as awkward as breakfast at home, luckily. Preston actually talked to me and, somehow, managed to get other people to join the conversation. And for the first time in nearly a week, everything felt normal. It felt like everything until then was just some messed up nightmare. Unfortunately, that feeling soon disappeared.

We were back home in an hour and we were hanging out in the living room. I could see some glares sent at me every once in a while. That made part of the feeling go away. But then it all went at once.

"What did you write on your arm, Lachlan?" Mitch asked. He reached out to grab my left arm, but I pulled it away.

"Nothing," I said, all too suspiciously.

Mitch gave a small laugh. "Come on, just let us read it at least!" he insisted. He managed to grab hold of my arm, but he was even stronger than Preston. _How weak _am_ I? I work out…_

"Just drop it!" I nearly yelled.

He managed to turn my arm around so he could see my wrist. I kept trying to fight against him before he moved the bracelets down, but he beat me. I lost. Everyone saw them. Everyone saw proof that I wanted to die, that I hated myself. Everyone saw that all I am is what they think of me as.

He immediately let go of my arm and I heard nearly everyone gasp. I turned around and ran to my bedroom without even looking back. The same feeling I got when Preston found out hit me like a ton of bricks, but amplified by a thousand as I locked the door. I was already sobbing uncontrollably.

No one was supposed to find out. I wasn't supposed to start this in the first place. It was bad enough when Preston found out. But now? With 4 times the people? I felt like I was suffocating. I felt like I couldn't breathe because of the impact of what just happened. It felt like my throat literally closed up. It didn't help that I was sobbing as hard as I was.

"Lachlan?" Preston asked softly.

I couldn't answer. My breathing was too uneven. I started feeling light-headed. My throat hurt too. Everything hurt.

"Lachlan, take deep breaths. Calm down, it'll be okay," Preston tried to assure me.

"I-I-I-I c-c-can't. I-i-it's t-too…" I gasped. It was too difficult trying to string words together. None of the words made sense. I gave up. And how do you breathe again?

"Lachlan, please just try. You're gonna hyperventilate if you don't," Preston said, trying to stay calm.

"B-b-but they s-s-saw," was all I managed to spit out.

"We're not mad at you or anything Lachlan," Vikk said. He was with Preston?

"It's not your fault for doing any of it, it's ours," Rob added. He was too? Was everyone in front of the door?

"I'm sorry for being so insistent on seeing your wrist, too," Mitch said.

"We should've done a better job at noticing," Mat said.

"Lachlan, can I please come in?" Preston asked.

"N-n-no! Y-y-you c-c-an't! Y-y-you c-c-c…" I shouted, giving up once again.

"We won't come in with him if you don't want us too," Rob quietly added.

"F-f-f-fine," I said.

Preston slipped in and sat down next to me. I was sitting on the bed, my legs pulled to my stomach and a pillow clutched in my arms.

"Hey, Lachlan, it's okay," Preston whispered, pulling me into a hug.

"N-n-no i-it's n-not!" I said.

I heard the guys starting to whisper on the other side of the door. I didn't know if it was my imagination or not, but I was sure I heard sniffling.

"Don't you hear them? They're crying, they think it's their faults. Well, I mean it is but…" Preston continued.

"I-i-it's n-n-not th-their f-faults. J-just m-mine," I said.

"I think the first thing to do is calm your breathing. Come on, deep breaths," Preston interrupted.

I tried. I really tried. But I couldn't. I was talking around 5 breaths in a second with an uneven amount of time in between. My chest really hurt.

"Calm down, you're gonna pass out if you don't."

It felt like hours, but I finally did it. I finally slowed down my breathing. It was still uneven, but it was probably the same as anyone would breathe when they were just plain crying. Not sobbing the hardest you can.

"Are you okay?" Preston asked.

I shook my head to say no.

"What's wrong?"

"E-everything! I'm s-supposed to be spending q-quality time with my b-best friends, n-not crying b-because they know that I s-self harm!" I answered.

"It's not like we don't care, though!"

"B-but that's you. You're p-probably the most u-understanding person a-anyone could ever m-meet. Th-they o-obviously don't care if th-they act so b-bitter around me!"

"I think we both know that they were just overreacting. And they never realized how much it hurt you for them to be acting the way they did. They knew it was bad, but they didn't think it would drive you this close to the edge."

"Do y-you really th-think that?"

"I know that. I think everyone is here to blame."

Then someone knocked on the door.

"H-hey guys? Can w-we come in?" I heard Vikk ask. He was crying.

Preston looked at me and I nodded. "Yeah," Preston answered.

"We're so sorry, L-Lachlan. Especially Vikk and I…" Rob said.

"I… I'm s-sorry too…" I muttered.

"You have n-nothing to s-say sorry for," Mitch said in an almost angry tone.

"O-of course I-I do!" I argued.

"Just continue with the sappy friendship stuff," Preston interrupted.

Preston was the only one who wasn't crying. I wasn't mad at him or anything–I was actually glad that one of us was able to think straight. Plus we both cried for an hour or so and he already went through all the emotions that the guys are going through now. I know for a fact that he'll never get over what I did; I know for a fact that _none_ of us will.

We all took a little time to make our breathing completely normal so none of us were stuttering anymore.

"Look, we shouldn't have been complaining about you. Sure, you shouldn't be friends with us and be oblivious to things like that, but overall we should just keep our opinions to ourselves," Vikk said.

"Yeah. And then when we all accepted that you knew we were so mean towards you. We had no right to do that. It was such a small thing and we overreacted. A lot," Rob added.

"And I think we call all agree when I say that it's okay if you hate us or want to fly back to Australia," Mitch said. Everyone nodded.

I could see the majority of their emotions on their faces. Usually I'm not _that_ good at reading people, but they did no job at hiding anything. I could also figure that those feelings were strong. It was a lot to take in. All of them (including Preston) looked guilty and extremely sad. In what they said, I could guess they were slightly disappointed too. But Mitch sounded hesitant and regretful.

I knew why they were sad and guilty, that was obvious. They were most likely disappointed because I choose such a stupid way to cope with my emotions. I was confused at why Mitch would act like that, though. It took me forever to realize that it was because they would actually miss being friends with me. I could see it in all of their faces. They truly were friends who cared about me; they were just blinded by a single trait I had.

"Why would I fly back to Australia?" I asked, a small smile forming on my lips. It was the first time I truly felt like I was happy in a while.

"I mean… I meant if you hate our guts, we understand," Mitch answered. I saw a gleam of hope in his eyes. I saw it in everyone's eyes.

"I don't hate your guts… I hate my own. You guys are as innocent as puppies. None of you should be taking any of the blame," I said.

"Look, stop blaming yourself! You wouldn't have felt this way if we hadn't said all that shit about you!" Mat insisted.

"Stop, all of us should be saying-" Preston started.

"No. Let me explain something. I don't think you guys completely understand. I've been depressed ever since I can remember. It just comes in waves. It goes from being such a small insignificant thing to something that is threatening to drown me. The only reason I never told you guys is because when I became closer friends with all of you it was barely there. It felt like none of it even existed. Then it just suddenly hit and it was the most painful thing I'd ever felt. And I was… I-I was scared…" I interrupted.

"Scared? Of what?" Vikk asked softly.

"I don't know… I guess I knew that some people just assume people who are depressed are selfish and need to make people feel bad from them… I really don't know…" I answered.

"Lachlan? I'm going to be honest. I don't think that every depressed person is like that. I don't completely understand why I thought of you like that, but from what I understand it's because I thought you were more emo. I personally believe that there is a fine line between depressed and emo. Being depressed is just being extremely sad and worse. Being emo is wanting everyone to feel bad for you so you do bad things, whether you are depressed or not. I just didn't realize that you were actually depressed," Rob explained.

"And I think something to add to that, is that there's also different reasons for self-harm. There is, like Rob said, to make people feel bad for you, but then there is because the pain is literally unbearable," Mat added.

"Everyone here is guilty. I think we all know that. I think the question isn't whose fault is it, it's what are we going to do now?" Preston said.

Everything collapsed on the inside again. I didn't want to go to a mental hospital. Please no. I can't. I didn't even know what it was like in one. And what about the other people there? I felt like throwing up. I just knew that they were going to do something like that. But I'm not even a citizen here, so how would they pull that off? They would find a way. These are my friends we're talking about.

"The choices are down to seeing a therapist or… Taking you to the hospital," Preston continued.

"Please don't take me to the hospital, I don't… I don't want to," I pleaded.

"But I think that's what's going to be the most helpful right now. If you've been depressed for this long…" Mitch said.

"But, Mitch, he flew this far to see us. We shouldn't be pulling him away," Vikk helped me.

I saw Preston and Mitch consider this as everyone else nodded, agreeing with Vikk.

"Fine, but I'm signing you up for an appointment right now," Preston decided, leaving the room. A few seconds later Preston came back. "I need help. I don't know Canada that well…"

We laughed despite the heavy feeling that we all still felt. I guess all of us actually had a chance at pulling through this ordeal that I've created. That itself made me feel better.


	7. Chapter 7

"Wake up Lachlan," Preston said, shaking my shoulder. I groaned and just pulled a pillow over my head.

"Get up you butt!" Mitch shouted.

"No," I groaned.

"Get up!" Mat screamed, flopping on top of me.

My eyes snapped open and I tried to push Mat off. "No! You're such a jag! Get off of me fatty!" I joked. Mat sat up and put on a fake hurt expression.

"What did you call me?!" he snapped.

"Nothing…" I said innocently. We all started laughing.

"It's nice for things to be back to normal," Vikk said in a more serious tone.

"Yeah, and again, I'm sorry," Rob agreed.

"Honestly though, we should stop saying sorry to each other. We'll start arguing," I said.

"And why is it bad to be arguing about something like that?" Vikk asked.

"Because it'll never end. Now all off you get downstairs and eat," Preston interrupted.

"Fine mom," Mat mumbled sarcastically. Preston kicked Mat's shin and sent him a glare. They were so childish.

Once we were downstairs we all started eating and talking together. It was actually how I imagined this trip being. I thought that everything would be as perfect as it seemed in recordings, I just didn't think it would take three days for it to start.

"Um, Lachlan?" Mitch asked, cutting into a gap in our conversation.

"Hmm?" I said with my mouth full of cereal.

"I just wanted to let you know that Preston and I signed you up for an appointment for tomorrow. I know it's so soon but Preston did say as soon as possible," Mitch explained.

"Oh, okay," I mumbled.

I didn't want to eat my cereal anymore. My stomach felt bad again. I was scared already. I didn't want to talk about it, but I knew it would be the only thing that would help. And I'm sure that what I tell the therapist will be told to my friends since I wasn't the one who came up with this idea. If I couldn't tell this to my friends than how could I tell a stranger?

"Don't be so worried, Lachlan. I understand how you must feel. I know you don't want to talk about this but you have to. None of us want you to do that again. And… I'll admit that I had to see a therapist too. It was because of depression, just not… to this extent," Vikk admitted.

"Really?" I asked, looking at him.

"Yeah… I actually haven't told anyone else that…" he answered.

"I would've never expected that someone as happy as you was ever depressed to start with," Rob said.

"I think Vikk's point is that after going to therapy he's happy now," Mitch pointed out.

"It's just… I mean, I've seen therapists before, I won't lie about that. It's just that I've never been as depressed as I… am now. I've never done anything like that before and I'm just scared," I confessed.

I finally told them that I've gone to therapy before. It felt like I was a little less of a liar as I was before I said that. But I still stumbled while talking. I also just admitted that the wave of depression hasn't quite passed yet. It seemed like it has, but the only things that have left are the scissor and mirror shards since they were away.

"But, again, this is why you need to go. And if you want to tell us anything before you tell your therapist just remember that we'll listen," Preston assured me.

"You don't have to say anything, but… You can tell us what you felt that made you feel the need to do what you did…" Mat muttered.

"Believe me, I want to tell you guys; I hate the feeling of keeping something like this cooped up. I just… I don't know how to phrase anything. I always end up being misinterpreted because I try too hard at being understood…" I tried to explain. I couldn't even explain that. God, I'm a failure.

"Yeah, I can see that…" Rob joked. I rolled my eyes and tried to finish my cereal. I couldn't. My appetite had vanished.

"Erm… You know what? I'm going to go up to bed. I want to take a day off for recoding and just spend some time alone," I said, standing up. Preston grabbed my wrist before I could leave the kitchen.

"Please don't do anything stupid. I know that when your alone you tend to think different things; it happens to everyone," Preston said quietly. I nodded and went upstairs.

I wasn't planning to do that. I just wanted to see if I could come up with another way to explain how I feel other than talking. All the words jumble together when I realize there are people listening. I don't understand it. I keep my word when I say that I don't understand myself.

I couldn't come up with anything. I wasn't an artist, or a musician – I had no talent. I liked looking at art and I loved listening to music, I just couldn't create either. Then I basically slammed my face into the wall as I realized that there was an obvious answer I was ignoring. I keep a note book with me that I always would write in when I just wanted to vent out my emotions. I totally forgot about it and I brought it with me.

I'm also not a writer, but having my face shoved deep into my notebook with a pencil tearing at the paper just blurs everything around me. All my problems get channeled into the pencil and the piece of paper is suddenly my best friend, the one thing that can stand all the things crammed in my brain that I can't speak. Yup, definitely not a writer.

I dug through my suitcase and found it buried at the bottom. The last time I wrote in it was probably the night after the God-forsaken Skype call. But the things I wrote in before that probably still had the same meaning as they did now. After reading through it I made up my mind: I'd add one more page then give it to them. I couldn't see a better way of explaining things.

Before you get all judgmental, what gets written in it is probably way different than what first comes to mind. It's not a journal, it's not a diary, it's not anything like that. It doesn't explain my day; it's just my flat out emotions. It's basically depression on paper.

I took out a pencil and opened to the next blank page. It wasn't hard coming up with what to write with. I think that part of me was aching to let the emotions out and by the time I let them they were pouring. I had no clue how much time had passed by the time I finished. It didn't look like too much time had passed, but I didn't even care because I had written down a lot. I put a sticky note on it saying to read it and left it on the coffee table in the living room.

_I know you guys are going to be reading this. I'm sorry I couldn't say this as an actual person rather than a sheet of paper, but I can't. It's too hard. When it comes to explaining stuff like this I never end up explaining it right – it's a lot of pressure on me._

_Before you guys are jags and call me out for having a diary, this isn't a diary. I know it may seem that way at first, but it's not, it really isn't. Read the rest of this and I assure you that you won't be laughing at how girly I sound. _

_This is where I vent out my emotions. Again, it's not a diary. I won't even try to sugar coat it, this whole thing is just filled with what goes on in my head and that place is pretty dark. I'm usually not that serious, but I just never show it. I don't like making people feel uncomfortable, but I seem great at doing it._

_I'm sorry. I never meant for you guys to see them. I never thought I would resort to this to start with. I already told you briefly how I felt yesterday and to be honest, I was surprised I managed to get those words out, but I realized that I really needed to write this stuff down._

_When I joined that Skype call and found out that you guys were talking about me, I felt alone again. I never really had that many friends growing up, and my family never seemed to care enough to notice me. Having you guys as friends is honestly the only thing keeping me sane. I'm not trying to call any of you out. I'm just trying to tell you why I took it so badly._

_To be honest, there was always a small part of me that suspect that you guys didn't like me. I always tried to ignore it, but I was always the odd one out. It just seemed like out of everyone we record with, I'm the only one who gets picked on as much as I do. And to know it was sort of true…_

_I can completely understand why though. I don't like people like that either. It's one of the reasons I hate myself so much. What Rob and Mat said yesterday was true, there are differences, there are lines that can be drawn, but something inside of me is telling me that I only did this to get attention. I know for a fact that I wanted to die, I wanted it to end very badly, but I was too scared. I would never bring up the courage. I knew that I'd leave people feeling guilty, even though they're innocent. Even though I was convinced that you guys hated me, I knew that anyone would feel guilty with the thought that they were the cause of a death, whether or not it was someone worth grieving for._

_I was too scared to die and I wanted someone to notice the pain I felt. My words would never accurately explain my mental pain so the next thing that came to mind was show the physical equivalent. But I started doing it without thinking. I was blinded by the pain. I was blinded by my selfishness. _

_You guys are still my friends now and that's all that matters. One day I'll have to tell my family and maybe even my fans, but I know that I shouldn't think too far ahead. Thanks for being there._

_I'm sorry._

_3 Lachlan_


End file.
